


Le Cirque de Chauffe

by lilgirlost (lil_grl_lost)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 1920s, Alpha!Clint, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Circus, First Time, Fluff, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Omega!Phil, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_grl_lost/pseuds/lilgirlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S.H.I.E.L.D had taught Agent Philip J. Coulson how to handle almost anything: drunken billionaires, demigods, a Latverian bent on world domination; regrettably time travel was not of the list. And neither was the know-how on dealing with a growing attraction for an Alpha in a 1920s traveling circus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le Cirque de Chauffe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deathtouch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/gifts).



> This was my gift to deathtouchxo for the [Clint/Coulson Holiday Exchange](http://cc-exchange.livejournal.com/). 
> 
> I had tons of fun writing this, even after my computer crashed. So I’ve taken to calling this little gem: Circus!Omegaverse 2.0. Anywho… props to both of my betas xdark_chanx and ginoddduck (on lj) for putting up with my crazy the last couple of days as I finished this, especially as I racked my brain for a title. But I’m happy to say that it’s finished and I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it. :) 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters, just borrowing them from Marvel and Stan Lee. I'll give them back, promise.

_S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't pay me enough for this_. Phil thought to himself as he stared out into the dark wood. Moments earlier, he’d been in Stark’s R &D facility in New Jersey with Dr. Banner, observing as the scientists tried to repair a piece of tech salvaged from a fight with Doctor Doom. Originally Coulson wasn’t supposed to be there; but Sitwell had begged off, claiming extreme emotional damage if he had to stay a moment longer in the same room as Stark. So Fury had reassigned Sitwell as Natasha’s handler for her latest mission and sent Phil to New Jersey to babysit Stark and Banner.  
  
With a quiet sigh, Phil pulled out his phone to call for an extraction team; but as soon as the device powered on, he noticed the signal bars had been replaced by a flashing no symbol. Frowning in annoyance, Coulson waved the device in the air, hoping for any kind of signal. But after a few minutes, he finally decided to call it a lost cause and turned his attention towards the faint light seeping through the thick foliage. If he was lucky, there was chance of help on the other side and just maybe they’d have a phone and perhaps a towel he could borrow. Unfortunately when he appeared, he managed to land in a small stream which left his shoes and pants soaked.  
  
As he treaded out of the water, Phil didn’t bother to hide the grimace at the wet slapping sounds his shoes made on contact with the earth; the feeling of waterlogged shoes and socks was just as unpleasant as the sound. Though the distance seemed longer due to the dimness and the low hanging tree branches, Phil emerged into a grassy field teeming with life. Spreading out before his eyes was a traveling circus with canvas tents and brightly colored wagons. The last time Phil had been to a circus was the summer of 1967, when his parents had taken him and his sister to see Ringling-Barnum.  
  
“Buddy, you can’t be back here,” a voice called out. Phil turned at the sound of a male voice and watched as a figure in purple appeared.  
  
Phil stared, waiting for the man to fully emerge from the shadows. Once the strange stepped into the light, Phil allowed his eyes to wander, assessing the man from the top of his sun-kissed brunette hair to the bow and quiver slung across his shoulder. When his eyes moved down the stranger’s body, Phil paused at the purple cowl clutched tight in the man’s hand.  
  
 _And the rest of him doesn’t look too bad either_. Phil thought, his eyes darting across the archer’s toned stomach and muscled thighs.  
  
Though unbeknownst to Phil, while he was busy checking the circus performer out, the archer was doing the same to him. With a smirk on his face, the carnie asked, “See something you like?”  
  
“Maybe,” Phil murmured before his brain caught up with his mouth. After realizing what he had said, Phil cleared his throat and spoke again. “I’m lost and was wondering if I could borrow someone’s phone.”  
  
There was a brief flash of annoyance before a confused expression settled across the handsome stranger’s face. “This is a traveling circus, not Ma Bell. The closest phone’s in town.”  
  
This time it was Phil’s turn for confusion. “Nobody has a cell phone?”  
  
“What’s a cell phone?”  
  
Instead of answering the performer’s question, Phil posed another one. “What year is it?”  
  
“1922.”  
  
“1922.” Phil repeated, trying not to seem panicked. S.H.I.E.L.D taught him how to handle anything; regrettably time travel was not on the list. “Where?”  
  
“Long Branch, New Jersey.” The archer replied with an ounce of suspicion in his tone. It was late and with the Big Top’s final show nearing its end there was no reason for a rube (or local) to be milling around in the dark, especially within their back yard. While he was nicer to rubes, more than most carnies, he hated when locals snuck into off-limit parts of the lot, specifically the performers’ sleeping area.  
  
 _So that means I’ve only traveled in time not across space_. Phil’s brain supplied; this he could work with. It just meant utilizing his vast knowledge of the S.S.R’s history (namely its founding members and the Howling Commandos), and by extension S.H.I.E.L.D’s, in order to get home. Given the year, Phil had few choices to turn to for help: a (then) Major Chester Philips, Timothy ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan (a traveling strongman), or his own grandparents.  
  
“You okay, buddy?” The stranger asked as soon as he realized the suit-clad man had gone a shade paler.  
  
“Fine. I’m fine.” Phil told the other man. “Sorry. Hi, my name is Phil.”  
  
The performer chuckled at how Phil introduced himself; most people in his business couldn’t be bothered to apologize for anything, let alone for having forgotten to give their name until they were halfway through a conversation. “Clint. Clint Barton.”  
  
“Thanks for your help, Mr. Barton.” Phil said, holding out his hand for Clint to shake.  
  
“No thanks needed,” Clint replied as he shook Phil’s hand. “Follow me to my tent. I can’t get you this cell phone; but how about a towel? Those wet trousers can’t be comfortable.” Clint continued as he motioned for Phil to follow him.  
  
As the pair walked, Phil’s eyes roamed across the various wagons and tents which littered the damp field. Coulson paused when his gaze stopped on a gaudily painted wagon, proclaiming its owner to be: The Mystifying and Mesmerizing Madame Esmeralda.  
  
“Her real name is Myrtle. She thought Esmeralda sounded better for a future teller.” Clint explained the moment he realized Phil was no longer behind him, “I think she read it in a book.”  
  
Phil glanced up, taking notice of Clint's scent for the first time. Though it was slightly muted because of their surroundings; Phil could still smell the clean citrusy flavor with the barest amount of musk rolling off the archer. “Oh.”  
  
“Yeah,” Clint agreed, rocking back and forth on his feet. “So what’s your fix?”  
  
Phil stared silently at the archer as his brain tried to work out what Clint was asking him. After a few minutes of silence, Phil finally asked for clarification. “My fix?”  
  
Clint chuckled and clapped Phil on the shoulder. “You really aren’t from around here, buddy. Your fix... alpha, beta, omega. I’m getting mixed scents off you.”  
  
“I’m a beta,” Phil replied; the lie rolling easily off his tongue. While Phil had never been ashamed of his Omega status, it was easier to live life as a beta. With heat suppressants and birth control, Phil was able to live out his dream of serving his country and the only price was never having kids or an Alpha. Not that Phil had ever been that kind of Omega. From his very first Captain America comic book with matching trading card, Phil had known that he wanted to be a soldier, fighting to protect the United States from bullies.  
  
“Okay, I guess that makes sense.” Clint replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Phil gave Clint a half-smile before the archer turned around and resumed walking in the direction of his tent. Phil followed the archer’s lead, choosing to stay silent as much as possible. Though S.H.I.E.L.D hadn’t trained him for time travel, sci-fi movies, especially _Back to the Future_ , had given him a basic idea of what not to do so his future stayed his future.  
  
A few minutes later, Clint paused in front of a nondescript tent, pushing its flap open and motioning Phil in. Ducking his head, Phil entered the dim space and waited for Clint to light the small lamp hanging from the canvas ceiling. As light filled the area, Phil’s eyes took in the single camp bed and trunk pushed against the right sidewall with a single chair on the left beneath a hanging kerosene lamp. It was sparse; but Phil hadn’t expected anything different, considering it was a traveling circus.  
  
“Let me get you a towel,” Clint said, moving towards his trunk. Phil watched as he opened the battered piece of furniture, grabbing a threadbare towel from its depths and tossing it to Phil before pulling two sets of pajama pants out. At Phil’s pointed look, Clint remarked, “I figured you could stay the night.”  
  
“Thanks,” Phil replied as he toed off his wet leather shoes. Leaving his shoes where they were, Phil crossed to the chair and sat, pulling off his socks and laying them on the back of chair. Even though it was damp beneath his bare feet, the grass felt better than the hot stickiness within his socks.  
  
Resting his arms on his knees, Phil watched with hooded eyes as the archer began to undress. While he knew he should look away and give the other man some privacy; he couldn’t seem to make himself. Especially, as the archer stretched the neck of his leotard over his shoulder before pushing it down his tanned, muscular chest.  
  
“You interested?” Clint grinned, causing the tips of Phil’s ears to redden upon realizing he’d been caught staring. Not bothering to wait for a reply, Clint crossed the space and tugged Phil to his feet. The S.H.I.E.L.D agent went willingly; knowing what was coming and welcoming it. It had been far too long since he had let anyone close to him, let alone an Alpha. While there was no fear of him being forced to bond with anyone, Phil tended to keep Alphas and Betas at a distance, simply because bonding wasn’t in his cards as far as he was concerned. There was something about this archer that made him want to throw caution to the wind and enjoy his time traveling experience.  
  
There was a slightly sour taste as Phil opened his mouth to Clint’s; but he ignored it, enjoying the sensation of nipping teeth and the archer’s exploring tongue. Placing his hands on Phil’s hips as leverage, Clint walked backwards, pulling the other man as he went. Once his knees knocked against the bed, Clint broke the kiss and sat down, spreading his legs so Phil could stand between them. With the same intense focus Phil had only ever witnessed on an experienced sniper, the archer’s hands moved to his belt, undoing the buckle before popping the button.  
  
Phil licked his lips as the archer worked; now was the moment of truth. The pills helped mask his scent, but they didn’t stop his body from doing what it did naturally during sex. Without a second thought, Phil removed his suit jacket and started on his shirt buttons, needing to get undressed as fast as possible. Once jacket and shirt were gone, the archer released Phil’s pants before pulling him into bed.  
  
With a show of upper body strength, Clint flipped Phil over so Clint was on top then pulled away so he could lose his boots and tights. Once naked, Clint wrestled Phil out of his boxers and rejoined him on the bed, groaning at the sensation of warm skin against skin. They hadn’t much need for words after that.  
  
+++  
  
Later as they lay tangled in Clint’s lone blanket, waiting for their heart rates to slow and the sweat to cool. Clint finally voiced the one question Phil had been waiting for. “Why did you lie?” Clint asked, twisting on his side so he could see Phil’s face when he replied.  
  
Phil gave a half-hearted shrug as he glanced at Clint. Turning his head fully, Phil’s eyes traced the strong line of Clint’s jaw before he spoke. “Would it have made a difference?”  
  
“That’s not an answer, Phil.” Clint growled.  
  
“I know.” Phil said, his mouth twisting into a smirk, as he allowed Clint to rearrange his body so he was laying half on the archer’s broad chest. Tucking his head into the juncture of Clint’s neck, Phil inhaled the scent of Alpha and sex before pressing a quick kiss to the archer’s skin. Clint smiled into the darkness once Phil was settled; while Betas were his preferred choice for one night stands, Clint knew he would be hard pressed to let this man go and it had nothing to do with him being an Omega. With that last thought in his head, Clint drifted off to sleep.  
  
+++  
  
“Up,” Clint said firmly as he pulled the thin blanket off Phil’s body, causing his lover to moan as the cool damp air touched his sleep warmed body.  
  
Phil lay still with his eyes closed, hoping Clint would leave him to sleep. But the archer wasn’t having it, “up,” Clint repeated.  
  
Sighing deeply, Phil twisted to his side on the small camp bed, not bothering with covering up his naked body. Phil glared at Clint, his eyes tracking the archer as he moved around the small tent and pulled on his clothes. Once his trousers and suspenders were on, Clint settled next to Phil and ran his fingers through the thin hair at the base of Phil’s skull before resting his warm hand on the other man’s cooling back. “I’m going for coffee then we’ll see Campbell, the circus’ manager. Be dressed when I get back.”  
  
Phil moaned again as his eyes settled on the tent’s opening. Though the opening was small, Phil could tell the sun wasn’t even out yet and coupled with a slightly drunk feeling, which he attributed to the endorphins still coursing through his body, he knew it had been only a few hours since they had gone to bed. Typically the lack of sleep wouldn’t be a problem for Phil, but sex and time travel appeared to have taken a lot out of him.  
  
Clint sighed as Phil continued to lay there, unmoving. With an eye roll, the archer climbed to his feet and left the Omega where he lay. There was no doubt in his mind that Phil wouldn’t be up by the time he got back. As he left, Clint made sure to close the tent’s flap tightly behind him; he had no desire in sharing Phil with anyone in the circus.  
  
By the time he returned with two mugs of hot, steaming coffee with the consistency of sludge, Phil was partly dressed and wrestling with his tie. Placing the tin mugs on his trunk, Clint moved over to Phil, taking the tie from his fingers and tucking it into front pocket of the slightly wrinkled trousers. “No need for that,” Clint told him as he retrieved their mugs.  
  
Phil nodded, reaching for his mug and taking a sip, as he tried not to grimace at the flavor. He had had some terrible coffee in his time; but this coffee was closer to mud than actual coffee in his opinion. Maybe Stark’s expensive taste in coffee had spoiled him forever. Either way, Phil chugged the liquid down as fast as possible, treating it like he would a band aid... quick and fast.  
  
Setting the mug down, Phil rolled his eyes at Clint’s amused expression. “Never seen anyone drink Missouri’s coffee so fast. It’s a miracle if I finish one cup a day.”  
  
“It is pretty bad,” Phil agreed with a light laugh. Clint chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to Phil’s grinning mouth. Without releasing his hold on Phil, Clint pulled him from the tent but not before leaving his mug.  
  
Just like the previous night, Clint lead Phil through the tall grass; but the winding maze of vehicles, tents, and circus equipment had been largely reduced, leaving behind only spots of matted grass. They walked in silence for a few yards before Clint stopped them, not far from a large wagon with the words: Campbell-Bailey-Hutchinson and Wild West, scrawled across it.  
  
“There’s a few things you need to know about Campbell,” Clint told him without preamble. “Don’t piss him off, but make sure you’re a smartass.”  
  
“What?” Phil asked confused by the how he was supposed to achieve one without the other.  
  
“You want him to notice you, so he’ll fight for you if push comes to shove with the other owners; but you don’t want him to notice you too much. Understand?” Phil nodded at Clint’s explanation, letting his mind go to the mindset he used when dealing with Director Fury.  
  
Crossing the few remaining feet, Clint leapt up the wagon’s short flight of stairs and banged on the door, waiting for Campbell to open the door. Minutes later the door opened to reveal an overweight and greasy looking man.  
  
“What the hell do you want, Barton?” The circus manager yelled, “I’m busy entertaining.”  
  
From his position at the bottom of the stairs, Phil watched as the archer’s shoulders tensed and he moved his body in such a way as to block the inside of the wagon from view. However Clint’s body could do nothing to hide the young, ample-busted female in Campbell’s bed or the strong scent of fear in the air. She was still in heat and had recently been bonded, probably unwillingly if the fear meant anything.  
  
Phil felt his face pale as he recalled the horror stories of forced bonding prior to the Omega Protection Acts; in the most extreme cases, Omegas had been treated no better than cattle to Alphas. But the acts opened up a new world for Omegas, giving them the power to pick their bondmates and have lives outside of the home. Furthermore, they granted Betas equal rights to Omegas, meaning that prior to the acts, Omegas could only bond with Alphas unless the Omega’s parents agreed otherwise.  
  
“Yeah, I can see that, Campbell.” Clint ground out, doing his best to ignore the scared Omega in the greasy Alpha’s bed.  
  
When he had first joined the circus, Clint had witnessed firsthand Campbell’s treatment of an unbonded Omega, who had been close to her heat when Campbell found her. The whole thing had ended with tears for the ruined Omega and pain for Clint. He had tried to help the Omega and got a black eye, a wretched arm, and a bite mark which took weeks to heal. After that, Clint ignored it all as much as possible; there was nothing he could do for the Omegas.  
  
“I asked you a question, Barton. What the hell do you want?” Campbell shouted again, shoving his belly out towards Clint as though he making sure the archer knew and understood who the lead Alpha was.  
  
“I’ve got a new roustabout for Rusty,” Clint stated without a trace of fear in his voice; his childhood had been spent dealing with a mean drunk of an Alpha father, who had eventually killed himself and his mother in a fit of rage.  
  
Through all of this, Phil stayed silent and out of way. This pissing contest was between Campbell and Clint; even his Army Ranger and S.H.I.E.L.D training, Phil knew better than to get between two angry Alphas, especially when he was currently presenting as a Beta to others.  
  
Campbell growled deep in his throat as his bulbous flesh turned a deep red. “As long as he can do the work, I don’t care. Take it up with Rusty. Now get the hell out of here.” And with that, the manager slammed the wagon door with a loud bang.  
  
Clint rolled his eyes and twisted on his feet to gaze at the paleness in Phil’s cheeks. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” the archer said apologetically.  
  
The older man shrugged his shoulders in a ‘what can you do’ gesture, as he waited for Clint to join him back on the ground. Once the archer was off the stairs and next to him, Phil finally asked the question, which had been nagging him. “What’s going to happen to her?”  
  
“Campbell will leave her a few towns down the route and if she’s lucky, she’ll get home and her parents will find a nice Beta. One, who’s willing to marry a bonded and pregnant Omega and claim her child as their own; then they will live the rest of their lives without ever bonding.”  
  
As sadness filled Clint’s voice, Phil clutched the archer’s shoulder and pulled him into a slow chaste kiss, hoping to chase his anguish away. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Clint murmured, taking the comfort Phil was giving him. “Come on. The flag’s still up at the cookhouse; let’s get breakfast.”  
  
Just as the performer tried to move away, Phil grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers together. “I don’t regret last night.” Although he wasn’t sure why Clint’s voice filled with such sadness as he spoke, Phil hoped the archer took some comfort from his presence.  
  
Clint grinned, pressing a quick kiss to the other man’s lips. “Good. Me either. Now I think I promised you breakfast.”  
  
“Yeah, I think you did.” Phil agreed, tugging on their joined hands, leading Clint in what he hoped was the direction of the cookhouse. Hopefully, breakfast would turn out to be better than the coffee had been.  
  
+++  
  
The next few weeks passed in a blur of endless routines: days spent toiling away under a burning sun while his nights found him tucked close to Clint in a single bed as he whispered all of his secrets into the sweat damp skin beneath his lips. The time spent in the archer’s bed was Phil’s favorite place to be; his second place, when the opportunity presented itself, was watching from the sidewalls of the big top as Clint performed his act before an awestruck crowd. In all his years in the Army and with S.H.I.E.L.D, Phil had never witnessed the deadly accuracy Clint was able to pull off with just a bow and arrow. The S.H.I.E.L.D agent in him immediately wondered what kind of accuracy the archer would have if given a modern-day sniper rifle.  
  
Later when he looked back on this day, Phil would realize that all of the signs had been there: the unexplainable itch, as though invisible ants were crawling across his skin; a newly found possessiveness from Clint (originally Phil thought of it as oppressive towards Omegas but coming from the archer… it was comforting); and finally the tingling sensation of warmth throughout his body. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen; but Fury couldn’t really blame him for it. Phil had been stuck in 1922 for almost five weeks and his suppressants had worn off sometime during the previous three weeks, so it wasn’t surprising as his body began to regulate itself again... bringing on his first true heat in almost ten years. Though S.H.I.E.L.D couldn’t and didn’t discriminate against bonded and unbonded Omegas; they still mandated field agents and specialists to take hormone suppressants to stop them from going into heat during vital missions. Even on the suppressants and a mixture of birth control, Phil was still able to have heats; though typically, they were four months apart and only lasted a day or so instead of the normal four days.  
  
It was just pass dawn on their first and only day in Hertford, North Carolina when Campbell stumbled upon Phil alone and in the middle of unrolling some of the shorter canvas sidewalls. Jack, the boss canvasman and a Beta, had left him with instructions on the placement of the freak show canvases before leaving to oversee the rigging of the big top. While Phil had been feeling off since they had disembarked from the train a few hours earlier, Jack hadn’t remarked on anything, so Phil had thought it was all in his head. Unfortunately he was wrong.  
  
“Darling...” Campbell drawled as he neared Phil, “you smell delicious.” The pungent scent of desire rolled off the fat man in waves. He wanted Phil and nothing was going to stop him from taking what he wanted. And Phil knew this.  
  
While the pheromones released by Campbell should have been enough to make Phil submit, the logical side of his brain--the side that loathed his biological urges--quickly jumped into action. Without a second thought, Phil twisted on his heel as he readied himself to run. However Campbell was faster, his hand seeming to appear out of nowhere and grabbed Phil’s arm in a vice-like grip.  
  
The army had taught Phil many things, mainly how to take out enemies, who happened to be bigger and stronger than him. Unfortunately his training was no match against a 300lb Alpha in a heat rage; but hopefully it could give him a fighting chance in delaying the inevitable. With a single focus, Phil kicked out with his right leg, aiming for the knee closest to him, and with enough force to break it. As his foot made contact with the gaffer’s knee, Phil felt the knee give and heard the satisfying sound of bone cracking, causing the Alpha to scream in agony.  
  
Throwing off Campbell’s arm, Phil landed a punch to the overweight man’s face, knocking him off his one good leg and to the ground. However, Campbell wasn’t down and out yet, as soon as Phil tried to move away from him, the Alpha wrapped his meaty hand around Phil’s ankle and tugged, causing him to hit his head against a nearby wagon wheel. The fall leaving him momentarily stunned, Phil shook his head to clear the confusion before he tried getting to his knees. However Campbell knocked him off balance by pulling firmly and forcibly at the ankle in his grasp. After landing on his stomach with a faint thud, Phil kicked with his free leg, aiming for Campbell’s face and hoping one good blow would release him.  
  
Jerking his head back and forth, Campbell managed to dodge the glancing blows from Phil’s foot, all the while slowly advancing on the fallen Omega. As Phil lay there, he could smell the lust and the greasy-tang of want emanating from Campbell; but there was a new scent coming closer, one Phil recognized. One minute Campbell’s face was looming dangerously close to Phil’s, and the next the weight once pressing him against the grassy earth was gone and his ears filled with the sounds of fighting: the thumps of fists against meaty flesh coupled with deep growls low in the throat. Breathing a sigh of relief, Phil turned his head and took in the sight of Clint’s muscled arms making quick work of Campbell.  
  
With one last kick to Campbell’s gut, Clint left the downed Alpha where he laid and crossed to Phil, using his eyes to check the Omega for any sign of distress. Once the archer was certain Phil hadn’t been harmed, expect from the small bump on his head, Clint reached out and helped the Omega to his feet. Phil wrapped his arms around Clint’s torso, tucking his face into the archer’s neck and breathed deep, trying to calm his racing heart while letting his Omega-part of him take comfort in Alpha’s presence.  
  
“You’re okay, Phil.” Clint murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the other man’s temple. Without letting his lover go, Clint steered them towards a group of wagons set a little ways off from the rest of the sleeping tents. The wagons were kept for when the members of the troupe went into heat; it allowed them the privacy while allowing them to continue to travel with the circus.  
  
Phil stumbled slightly, his legs weak from the onset of his heat and the haziness of fear still coursing through his veins. He didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if Campbell had managed to get his teeth into his neck. The mere thought of having to spend the rest of his life connected to such a grotesque Alpha was enough to make Phil physically ill. Pushing those thoughts away, Phil focused on Clint’s smell, the scent of his anger laced with the mild spice of arousal.  
  
Without letting go of his lover, Clint maneuvered them up the nearest wagon’s stairs and opened the door with a jerk, letting it bang against the inside wall as he hustled Phil into the small space. Although the wagon lacked a bed, the nest of pillows and blankets within its walls more than made up for it. Clint watched with hooded eyes as Phil dropped to his knees and crawled across the plush fabric before settling on his back against the mound of pillows towards the rear of the wagon.  
  
Closing the door behind him, Clint toed off his shoes, unable to take his eyes off the S.H.I.E.L.D agent, who was quickly losing his clothes. “Tell me who you want, Phil,” Clint demanded, his voice rough and breathless in the wake of Phil’s pheromones within the enclosed space. Clint had seen too many broken Omegas in his time, and there was no way he was going to force himself on this man.  
  
“You. I want...” Phil forced out through dry lips, “you.”  
  
Clint watched in rapture as Phil writhed on the nest of blankets and pillows. The longer he watched, the worse his resolve was to do right by his lover. Especially as the thin cotton fabric protecting Phil from Clint’s lust-filled gaze was becoming more translucent as the minutes ticked by. While he cared about this man, might even go as far as to say he loved him, Clint knew Phil was against bonding. It wasn’t something he had ever wanted in his life, so who was Clint to force him on it, especially while in this state.  
  
And with that thought, Clint had his decision firmly planted in his head. Dropping to all fours, Clint crawled up Phil’s body, pulling off the man’s briefs as he went, and settled between the man’s sprayed knees, resting his hands on either side of his lover’s head. Once the archer was close, Phil shot up from the nest of fabric, back arching in need as his hands reached out, grabbing for any bit of flesh they could find. Clint chuckled at Phil’s enthusiasm and pressed an open kiss to his lover’s panting mouth. Breaking the kiss, Clint licked Phil’s sweat damp skin, enjoying the tang of heat and arousal on his tongue, as Phil moaned and grasped beneath him. “Please.”  
  
Clint grinned and murmured a soft, “soon,” then wrapped his mouth around Phil’s straining erection. Hips jerking as he was enveloped by wet heat, Phil threaded his fingers through Clint’s hair, tugging at the short strands, silently urging the archer to stop teasing. Without moving his mouth, Clint languidly sucked on the short thick shaft as he slipped two fingers into Phil’s leaking hole and twisted, feeling the tight channel pulse around his fingers, beating in rhythm with the Omega’s heart. Clint smiled around the cock in his mouth before pulling away, letting the weight of the heated flesh to slide from his mouth.  
  
Leaning back, Clint took a moment to simply gaze at the flush skin of his lover before pulling his fingers from Phil. As he whined at the feeling of loss, Clint whispered nonsense into the Omega’s mouth, attempting to calm his overheated lover. “Ready?”

Phil nodded his head forcibly, reaching up and pulling Clint into a bruising kiss, tasting his pre-come on the archer’s lips. With pupils blown wide, Phil pushed at Clint’s shoulders, forcing the Alpha off him; a brief flash of confusion crossed the archer’s face before settling into a look of arousal as Phil flipped over and presented his ass to the Alpha. Clint grunted at the sight of the glistening hole as clenching and unclenching, waiting to be filled and knotted. Jutting his hips back, Phil begged for the Alpha to take him and split him open with his massive knot.  
  
With a smirk on his face, Clint inched slowly into Phil’s willing hole, showering the Omega with praise, “such a pretty eager hole,” as he bottomed out.  
  
“Yes,” Phil whined breathless with desire, “god yes.”  
  
“Tell me what you want,” Clint demanded as he settled back on his knees, pulling the Omega with him and onto his lap. Phil groaned as the archer’s knot slid further in, brushing against the thin piece of skin deep inside him. Rolling his hips, the archer nudged the membrane and felt it give as his knot pushed through, locking him to the sex-hungry Omega.  
  
“P-please fuck me,” Phil moaned when Clint’s knot began swelling within him. Wrapping his hand around the Omega’s erection, Clint began to move, making shallow thrusts into the wanting body. “So close.” Phil breathed into the air as his head fell against the archer’s broad shoulder.  
  
Raking his teeth down Phil’s neck, Clint panted into the soft skin, “C-come for me.” Sobbing deeply, Phil broke, his body shuddering above the archer as he shot strips of white across his chest and stomach. Satisfaction coursed through the Omega’s veins, causing him to slump as the adrenaline and haze of heat lessened; clutching Phil to his chest, Clint rocked forward, laying his lover’s chest flat on the plush bedding and supporting his hips as he drove in his final thrusts.  
  
With a low keen, Clint came, his knot expanding in Phil’s still quivering hole, as he pumped semen deep into the unbounded Omega. Once finished, Clint took great care in not dislodging his knot as he pitched sideways, rolling them on their sides as he curled protectively around his lover. Phil hummed sleepily as he settled into sleep, enjoying the archer’s warmth and the comfort of newfound security. After tangling their legs together, Clint closed his eyes and started to doze, even as his knot still pumped deep into Phil.  
  
The first knot of was usually the longest, especially if it was the first heat between an Alpha and Omega. It was as though the body knew and fully expected there to be a bonding bite by the end of it. But in the face of his own issues with bonding and his understanding of Phil’s, Clint knew that by the middle of the second day, Phil would be in a better frame of mind to consent. And if his lover said yes then Clint would have no problem in claiming him as his own.  
  
The next three days passed in a blur for Clint and Phil, alternating between sleep and the pull of mating. When Phil woke up sometime in the middle of night on their second day, he had looked at Clint in such a way that the archer knew without asking what Phil wanted and he was more than happy to give it to him. The bite was quick though the feeling of Clint’s teeth sinking into his naked flesh, marking him and claiming him as his own, was never leaving Phil.  
  
+++  
  
By the morning of the fifth day, Phil was ready to return to work with a spring in his step and the good sense to steer clear of Campbell. While everyone knew Campbell had a temper and was a mean son of a bitch, the other two gaffers, Bailey and Hutchinson, had gone to bat for Clint and Phil, placing all the blame at Campbell’s feet. As far as they were concerned, it was one thing to lure an expecting Omega into his trailer; it was a completely different matter to openly attack an unbonded Omega, especially one who had been sharing another Alpha’s bed. Barton had first right of refusal to mate with Phil, and only then would Campbell be allowed to make a play for him.  
  
Once everything was settled with Campbell, the circus fell back into its normal routine as it prepared for the final two shows of the season. And then everything changed with Bailey’s announcement of the show being sold and the appearance of a strange blue portal on the outskirts of the lot.  
  
“Philly boy, we’ve come to take you home.” Stark announced, strolling through the time portal like he owned it. The strange portal shimmered a deep blue as each member of the Avengers Initiative step through before settling once more into a pale blue.  
  
“It’s about time, Stark.” Phil said with an air of calm, pushing down the overwhelming feeling of relief at seeing the Avengers, even Stark.  
  
“We got your message...” Stark continued, frowning at Phil’s lack of interest in their arrival. Though Stark would never admit it out loud, he was slightly disappointed at not seeing Phil lose his cool over finally being rescued.  
  
Natasha snorted and rolled her eyes at Stark’s shortened version of events. “And by we, he means Fury,” she corrected, referring to the letter Phil had given to Dum Dum Dugan to pass along to Howard Stark, who eventually gave it to a young Nick Fury to hold until it was needed. Luck had been on Phil’s side from the very beginning; somehow he managed to join the exact same circus as Dum Dum Dugan, so all he needed to do was to get Dugan to trust him. And the strongman’s trust was earned by him becoming Clint’s Omega. There wasn’t a carnie in the troupe, who didn’t like the archer, except for maybe Campbell.  
  
“It just took us some time to figure out how to repeat our little mishap that got you here,” Stark explained; before he added, “how did you wind up so far from home?”  
  
“I didn’t originally; I only moved in time. I ended up here due to the circus, Stark. I couldn’t very well sit around with my thumb in my ass waiting on you to show up. If I had I’d probably have starved or worse.”  
  
“Hey! That’s what’s different about you, your smell. Well whaddya know, Agent Phil Coulson went and got himself bonded,” Stark crowed, finding the whole situation hilarious. S.H.I.E.L.D Agent Philip J. Coulson had been the last person, let alone an Omega, who Tony had thought would end up bonded. It was part of the reason why he thought Coulson was a robot.  
  
“Shut up, Stark.” Steve said, giving Tony a pointed look. Phil was a member of S.H.I.E.L.D, their handler, and friend; therefore, he deserved to be respected regardless of his biological status, which Steve never had a problem with. But then again, it was hard to have an issue with an Omega, especially in light of his own biological status. Although Steve was born an Omega, the serum had done something to him, changing his biological status in such a way that he didn’t present as anything... leaving S.H.I.E.L.D’s doctors completely baffled by it.  
  
“It’s all true, Phil,” Clint whispered, grabbing his bondmates’ hand and squeezing it. “Everything you said was true.”  
  
Phil managed a half-smile, though there was twinge of sadness in it. “Yeah, I’m from the year 2012. And with the exception of Stark, these are my friends.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Shut up, Stark.” Natasha said, trying very hard not to give into temptation and hit the man. “You’re giving everyone a headache.”  
  
Tugging on their joined hands, Phil pulled Clint from the group, leaving the Avengers so they could continue their conversation in private. There were some things that his team had no business hearing. Once they were far enough away, Phil wrapped his free hand around Clint’s neck and rested their foreheads together.  
  
“And let me guess, Phil, you’re just going to return to the future and to hell with me. Let me tell you something, Philip Coulson. There is no way in hell that’s going to happen. You’re mine: mind, body, and spirit.”  
  
With every word Clint spoke, Phil could feel the delicious lick of desire pooling through his veins, making his heart pound in a chaotic rhythm. He thought that over the last week he had gotten used to the feeling of being bonded... his soul being connected to another person for the rest of their life. It was so different than before, now there was this constant pulse of another person humming through his body. He could feel every one of Clint’s emotions: the passion, the anger, and the underlining sorrow.  
  
“You can’t be rid of me, Barton. That’s not happening,” Phil ground out. “Do you actually think so little of yourself to think that I was going to leave you the moment I was able too?” Clint stayed silent, letting his bondmate’s anger wash over him. The pair stared at each other, unable to speak or move because of the overwhelming emotions coursing through their bodies.  
  
“I feel like we’re one person short of a Mexican standoff, unless you want to get involved Cap and protect your number one fanboy?” Tony joked loudly, trying to lighten the situation; despite the fact he couldn’t possibly hear what Phil and Clint were saying.  
  
A faint groan could be heard coming from Steve’s direction; though it was Natasha, who delivered the retaliation on Tony for his insensitive remark with an eye roll and a quick head smack.  
  
“Ow!” Tony yelled as he rubbed the spot where Natasha’s hit landed. “Why so violent?”  
  
“Stark, behave.” Steve admonished, knowing that it would make little difference when it came to the genius billionaire; Tony was Tony and nothing was going to change that, no matter how hard Steve tried. And yet, Tony did fall silent after Steve’s words, waiting with the rest of his team as Phil and his Alpha continued to talk.  
  
“I’m not sure what I thought, Phil. The places, the things you described seemed so unreal, an absolute fantasy. Given the way you talked, I honestly thought I’d have to commit you one day. I was terrified... worried that I was going to lose you.” Clint explained at a complete loss on how he was supposed to feel; he would never be a genius, especially when given his lack of formal education. However the archer did know that time travel was just fantasy, completely impossible. So when the man he loved began talking about so many wonderful things, how else was he supposed to feel?  
  
“I’m sorry, Clint,” Phil said, turning his head and pressing a chaste kiss to Clint’s forehead. “I never meant to worry you.”  
  
Leaning away from his bondmate, Clint waved off his apology as though it was nothing. “What’s going to happen to me when I step through that portal thing.”  
  
“S.H.I.E.L.D’s doctors will check you out and then they’ll get you squared away with any and all necessary paperwork.” Phil explained, quickly assuming his Agent Philip J. Coulson persona: one of order and efficiency.  
  
“I meant with us, Phil,” Clint clarified. “Where do we go from here?”  
  
Phil grabbed Clint’s arm, pulling him further from the Avengers. He knew Steve, Bruce, and Natasha wouldn’t repeat anything they might overhear; but he wouldn’t put it pass Tony to use for embarrassing anecdotes later. “We start our life again, Clint. I can’t live here with you; I have a responsibility to S.H.I.E.L.D and these people.”  
  
“But my life is here. I’m your bondmate or does that not matter to you?” The archer questioned, becoming ever more frustrated with Phil. While he had only been with this particular circus for three years, Clint had been a carnie for over half his life. Following the deaths of his parents, Clint and his older brother had been sent to an orphanage before they decided to runaway to The Great Adam Forepaugh Show. For a time Clint had been happy with the circus troupe; unfortunately, his happiness didn’t last. It was only as he reached his teenage years, did Clint realize what kind of business his mentors, Trick Shot and Swordsman along with his brother Barney, had really been involved in… thief and extortion. The whole experience had left Clint feeling angry and betrayed; so as soon as he was able, Clint left Forepaugh’s circus, cutting ties with his brother and the life they once shared.  
  
“Clint, the circus is finished. The gaffers have split and it’s being sold for what they can get for it,” Phil stressed. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life traveling from circus to circus?” There was a kindness in Coulson’s voice; he knew Clint had longed for a family after he lost his own and the circus had given him that. But he could offer a permanent solution... a real family, one that they could create for themselves.  
  
“It doesn’t matter what I want, Phil. This is my life or do you happen to have paperwork for a carnie, who should be dead in your time?”  
  
Phil tried not to grin at his partner’s question; but the moment he felt the right side of his mouth twitch, he knew it was a lost cause. “Surprisingly, yes. Well... not a specific form for a carnie; but a general one for it, form HR-71043.”  
  
“Does your organization make a habit of randomly snatching people from the past?” Clint joked flatly; there was no humor in his voice, only uncertainty. His life had changed so much in the course of meeting Phil and he was beginning to wonder if he was willing to take this step and leave everything he knew (or thought he knew) behind.  
  
“No,” Phil stated, gearing up to explain Steve’s situation to Clint; but Stark’s big mouth beat him to it.  
  
“Steve got here the old-fashion way…,” Stark boasted, “by becoming a giant popsicle. But don’t worry, you’ll get along like a house on fire. I imagine you’ll both have plenty to talk about; especially concerning the degradation of America’s morality.”  
  
For the first time since they had arrived, Bruce made his presence known with a deep sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Tony.”  
  
“Stark!” Natasha snapped at the same time as Bruce.  
  
“Yeah, yeah... Shut up.” Stark grumbled, hunching his shoulders like a child, who had just been told off for being bad.  
  
“Good boy,” Natasha retorted, with a wicked grin, causing Stark’s face to twist into one of out and out fear. Natasha had been spending more and more time with Pepper and the very thought of what that grin could mean, terrified him.  
  
Phil laughed at his team’s antics; just having them close was enough for Phil to fight for what he wanted and what was best for Clint in the end. Coulson knew the days of the traveling circus were numbered and if Clint didn’t come with him, then there was no telling what would happen to the man. Plus, Phil wasn’t willing to let this man go; he loved him too much to leave him behind.  
  
“Is that true?” Clint asked turning away from Phil and towards the blonde hair super soldier.  
  
Steve glanced at Phil, who nodded his head, signaling that Steve could tell him the truth. “Yeah, it’s true. I went from being puny to this; fought some Nazis in the ‘40s; ended up frozen; and woke up in 2012.”  
  
“I’ll go,” Clint told his bondmate, earning a heated kiss from Phil. The archer wasn’t willing to say no in light of the new information and whatever happened to him after he stepped through the portal, Clint knew he wouldn’t be alone. “Home?”  
  
“Home,” Phil repeated and looked towards Bruce and Stark for confirmation. The pair of scientists nodded in agreement before Stark began motioning Phil and Clint forward and into the shimmering blue portal. With hands clasped tightly, Phil and Clint stepped through, followed by Bruce and Natasha with Steve and Stark bringing up the rear. The future wasn’t going to be like Phil had left it; it was going to be a hundred times better.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Le Cirque de Chauffe [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5282522) by [litrapod (litra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litrapod)




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